Mirror of the Soul
by Pir8grl
Summary: This is alot darker than anything I've written for Clara & Eleven. If you watch Matt Smith's eyes in AotD, when he finally finds Oswin, and he's flickering back and forth between compassion for her, and hatred of them, it's pretty intense, and that's where this came from.


The Doctor stared at the screen, recognizing the silhouette of Dalek ships. He immediately began setting new coordinates, sending the TARDIS hurtling off into space.

Clara grabbed hold of the rail as the wild ride continued. "Doctor, where are we going? Doctor?"

He kept typing in commands with manic intensity.

"Doctor, the stabilizers!" She lurched over the to console and slapped the large blue buttons. The ride evened out at once. Clara paused a moment to catch her breath, then caught his arm. "Doctor, talk to me. What are those things? And why are we running from them?"

"Daleks. The most destructive force in the universe. They…violate…every place, every living thing that they touch." The Doctor felt bile clawing at his throat, knowing what had been done to the girl beside him to force her into that mechanical shell…what **would** be done if they ever… No. He wouldn't let that happen. "I let them get away once before because I chose to save all of humanity, rather than pursuing vengeance. I'm running away from them now, because I choose to save you."

Clara shook her head, her eyes wide with horror. "You can't hide from something so evil, just to protect me. I'm not worth all that."

"You are to me."

Clara actually stepped back from the intensity of his gaze. There was something she'd never seen before in those green eyes - no laughter, no warmth or familiarity, just a cold, cold bleakness. For the first time, she felt the weight of all the centuries he'd lived, and knew that he wasn't - and never had been - human. When he spoke again, there was a fine edge of madness to the Doctor's voice that frightened her.

"It's all right, my love…my beauty…I won't let them hurt you. Not ever again."

He lifted his hand towards her face, and Clara flinched away from his touch.

"I don't know you," she whispered. A single tear slid down her cheek, but her next words contained some of her usual feistiness. "And you don't know me, if you think I'm all right with hiding in some damn box just to protect myself. If you can't understand that, then you can just let me out of here, and I'll make my own way."

"It's not just about protecting you from the Daleks," the Doctor replied, still in that same odd tone, "It's about protecting me…from myself."

"I don't understand."

"The things I've seen them do, over the centuries…the atrocities…and what they did to you... I am filled with so much rage and…hatred, that's really the only word for it, and I am capable of doing **so** much damage…I am so afraid of what would happen if I ever gave in to that rage. I see a Dalek, and I want nothing more than to wipe them all from the face of the universe, and make no mistake, I **can** do it."

"But you don't. That doesn't mean that you're weak, or a coward…it means that you're better than them."

"D'you think so?" the Doctor asked, sounding just a bit more like himself.

"I know so. Wouldn't be standing here if I didn't. Something else…if you're clever enough, and strong enough to destroy them, then you can figure a way to contain them somehow."

"You think I haven't tried that? They're like some unholy plague. No matter what box you shut them up in, they always - always - find a way to get the lid off."

"Then you build a better box," Clara challenged.

"You think it's that easy?"

"No, I think it's damn near impossible. Sort of like chasing through all of time and space after a girl who took your fancy."

He smiled then, and blushed a bit. "You…"

"Yeah, me," Clara replied, with that impish grin that so delighted him.

The Doctor held out his arms, and this time Clara stepped willingly into his embrace.

He folded his arms tight around her and laid his head on top of hers, as if his mere presence could keep her safe. "What would I do without you?" he wondered.

"Problem for another day," Clara replied firmly.


End file.
